A Time to Dance(58)

            Until my accident, we fought a lot.

            Don’t know how it would have gone

            if I hadn’t lost my leg.”


“I know how it would have gone.

            You’d have forced your ma to come around.

            You have no trouble fighting for what you love.

            I’m not a fighter like you are, Veda,

            but I’m hoping some of your spirit will rub off on me.”


So Govinda does admire me.

            Thath thai thaam, dith thai thaam.

            I kick, sink down into full-mandi, lunge,

            and leap up.

            And land in the standing position.


“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Govinda punches the air.

            I stand with both feet flat and sure on the floor,

            prepared to try some more,

            but Govinda says, “Maybe we should end with that today?

            You know we’ve started working

            on a dance drama about the Buddha’s life

            and I’m playing the lead?

            Akka wanted to start rehearsing earlier today.”

            “Can I come watch?” I ask.

            “I don’t dare say no to my demon.” Govinda’s tone is affectionate.

            And half teasing.

            His demon?

            This is the first time Govinda’s ever called me “his.”

            My heart skips.


But maybe I’m making too much out of what Govinda said.

            Maybe a nickname means

            no more to Govinda than it did to Jim.





A NEW CENTER





Govinda and I walk

            toward the open-air stage beneath the banyan tree

            where the cast is assembled.


Dhanam akka arrives.

            She says a small problem has come up.

            There’s a role vacant in the play.

            A student—Renuka—is moving away.


“Tough role,” someone comments.

            “Wasn’t Renuka playing the old, sick woman Buddha sees

            who’s onstage for three whole minutes?”

            Laughter ripples through the rest of the cast.

            I say, “Please may I have that part?”


Everyone’s gaze shifts to me.

            On Govinda’s face, I catch a look of admiration.

            I say, “If I keel over, it’ll only add a touch of realism.”


“You may have that part, Veda.

            And the part of Gautami,” Dhanam akka adds.

            Govinda looks puzzled. “Gautami?”

            “We’ll add a short scene to the play,”

            akka says. “The story of Gautami.

            Veda will play her role as well.”


A little girl runs up to us.

            “This is my kid sister, Leela,” Govinda says.

            “I’m not a kid,” Leela says,